


invisible masks

by keenquing



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 19:29:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18784702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keenquing/pseuds/keenquing
Summary: "None of us are ever done pretending, Sarah."  After yet another unremarkable relationship comes to its inevitable end, Sarah realizes she might still have a few more lessons to learn from the Labyrinth and its King.





	invisible masks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YunaBlaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YunaBlaze/gifts).



Sarah isn't sad about Cameron breaking up with her, really. She's just confused. He'd seen her playing chess opposite a stuffed animal before, and maybe he'd raised an eyebrow but he hadn't--

Well. He hadn't blown up like he did this afternoon when he'd walked in on her playing Scrabble with Sir Didymus and Ludo. It's true that she never really spoke when playing chess with Hoggle, but she hadn't realized she'd accused Sir Didymus of cheating quite so loudly.  But she couldn't understand why Cameron hadn't taken it as a joke, given that she'd been wagging her finger at the stuffed fox she always put just to her friend's side just in case.

Although, she'll give that things probably wouldn't have gone so horribly if she hadn't told Sir Didymus to _stop growling_ , _please_ , after Cameron had called her _crazy_. But she did, so things went from name calling, to yelling and slamming doors and 'I'll be back for my stuff in the morning.''

So, while she isn't really broken up about it, Sarah is maybe putting off really dealing with it for the moment. Karen would probably say she's running away from her problems, and perhaps that's true. But considering there's nothing she can do to prevent the inevitable phone call where Karen huffs that if Sarah would just _try harder_ and _act her age_ she wouldn't have any problem keeping a boyfriend, Sarah doesn't see the problem in delaying it a little.

Besides, the bookshop is quieting her head down so she can actually think, instead of replaying the scene over and over again. After a little while she's going over the last few months, remembering all the times Cameron had goaded her into going to some party just to complain that she had just stood in the corner all night when they got home, or when he'd picked up one of her statues and asked why she kept such an ugly thing around. And even though she knows bringing up all the things about her that Cameron had found some problem with will never be enough to make Karen understand why they never would have worked in the long run no matter how much 'effort' Sarah put forward, it does make her feel a little better about the whole mess.

She's just turning over a copy of _War For The Oaks_ \--she remembers trying to read it when it first came out but it had been so soon after that night in the Labyrinth that she'd felt just a bit unsettled by the fae of Minneapolis to say nothing of who Edie's phouka had brought to mind, but maybe it's been long enough for her to give it another go--when a bored voice pipes up.

"You can't honestly be that upset over--Colin? Calvin?"

"Cameron," Sarah says, automatically, not even looking up from  the book before she has time to consider who she's answering. Even after she recognizes the voice, it takes her several moments before she realizes it isn't coming from inside her own head. And when she does look up to see the source of the voice, immediately recognizing the man leaning against the shelf even with it having been years since she even saw him in her dreams , all she can manage is to sniff back the tears she's shedding more from frustration than heartbreak.

"Why should it matter to you anyway?"

Jareth shrugs and makes a show of examining his shirtcuffs, the motion compelling Sarah to fully take stock of him. They don't fall over his hands--gloved, although they look more like very fashionable winter gloves than what she had seen him wear before--but are buttoned tight around his wrists. The shirt itself is, while certainly stylish, dreadfully _plain._ Just an ordinary white button up shirt like any other man might wear to a meeting or something. Everything about him, actually, is remarkably...unremarkable.

"It doesn't, besides as a curiosity. I can't help but be intrigued by a man who would make _you_ cry for more than a few moments. I scarcely managed such a feat when you were fifteen."

"Yeah, well," Sarah lets out a heavy sigh, snapping the book shut and putting it back before leaning against the shelf to put herself closer to his level. "The world's a lot more complicated than when I was fifteen."

"Really, Sarah?" Jareth laughs, shaking his head. "That's the answer you, the only person who has beaten my Labyrinth, are going to try to sell me as the truth? You're crying because the world is _complicated?"_

"Well, it's true. Or at least people are a lot more complicated. Would you believe you made more sense to me than almost any other man I've met?"

At that, Jareth's mouth quirks and Sarah can't help smirking in return.  "Are you saying no man has lived up to your expectations as I worked so valiantly to do for a single night?"

Sarah's burst of laughter is short and biting, and when someone looks over she covers her mouth with a small wave, waiting until they turn away to lift her chin to Jareth. "Are you going to try to tell me you were more generous than all the men who _didn't_ kidnap my baby brother?"

"I wouldn't have, if you hadn't asked it of me." Jareth says, simply. "But, no. I was only asking a question, which you quite neatly avoided answering."

Sarah can't find a good argument for that, so she asks the Goblin King the first thing that pops into her head.

"Would you like to go get coffee?"

 

*******

 

While she only puts two sugar cubes in her own cup, Sarah can't help staring as Jareth pours so much cream into his that the contents go almost entirely white. Catching her gaping, he only shrugs, arching a brow.

"There aren't that many people who leave milk on their doorsteps anymore. We make do with what we have."

Sarah's mouth works silently around several responses, but none of them come close to forming anything like a real thought so she just shakes her head. "You are. Absolutely impossible."

"I generally try to be, yes. " He's almost _beaming_ , and Sarah finds herself tempted to punch his shoulder. She doesn't, but the impulse makes something twist in her gut. She doesn't feel like picking on most people that way; really only Hoggle and Toby. A few of her girl friends over the years, maybe. Never any men, not even the ones she hadn't dated. Not that she had dated many at all, not in a way that counted, and Cameron's the only one she managed to tolerate for more than a month or two.

And yet, she wants to tease the man who kidnapped her baby brother. _You asked that the child be taken_ , echoes in her mind. And while she knows she hadn't been aware of the weight of her words back then, she can't deny that Jareth was right about that. Maybe she hadn't quite realized it at the time, but he really hadn't been anything more than the Goblin King from a fairy story. And she can't really blame him for that.

Shaking herself out of thoughts she hasn't been ready to deal with for thirteen years and certainly can't start untangling _now_ , Sarah just rolls her eyes and makes her way to a table. She's not surprised that Jareth gets there before her, but she is surprised by his pulling out her chair. Which makes her realize she's not precisely sure why he's even here, in this ordinary place, looking like an ordinary man, when she didn't ask for it.

She tips her head to the side, dimly realizing she's moving around him the way she did through that room of impossible staircases. "What are you doing?"

"Taking one of the few opportunities I'm given to actually exercise my manners. _One_ of us should."

She huffs out an exasperated breath. "I didn't mean that. Well, I did, but--" she groans, dropping into her chair with a thump her melodramatic teenage self would have been proud of. "Why are you _here."_ She holds up a hand before he reminds her she asked him for coffee, _"_ I mean before I invited you. Because I'm pretty sure I didn't make any wishes before I left my apartment; I've been careful about that thanks to you."

"I wanted to get out, and you provided me with the perfect excuse."

"I-- _what?"_ Sarah almost knocks her cup over, but Jareth grabs it before a single drop hits the table. "You--you were just waiting for me?"

"Oh, come now, Sarah. Did you really think I wouldn't keep an eye on the one person who managed to beat me in--well, you don't need to know how long; you already know enough of my secrets."

"I don't know any!" Sarah snaps.

"Precisely." For a second, Jareth's smile is that same smug one she remembers receiving as he spun the clock forward to shorten her deadline. Then, he sighs, running his fingers through his still disturbingly-short hair.

"You may find this hard to believe, but it isn't exactly stimulating to be surrounded by goblins every single day. So sometimes, I need a break, to spare what remains of my sanity. So, I find excuses to come to your world, when I can. And I have, on occasion, used your continued association with my subjects as reason to...check up on you." He seems to know the indignant response forming on Sarah's tongue before she does, because he holds up a hand. "None of them are spying on you. But I do know where they are at all times. I would make a fairly terrible king if I didn't. So, it just so happened that I was peeking in on that delusional little fox and saw your...lovers' quarrel as a consequence, and used your departure as an excuse to get some fresh air, just in case you decided to do something rash that might require me to actually do my job."

"Stealing children isn't enough of an excuse?" The words come out more curious than accusing.  She can't deny that she has, occasionally, wondered what Jareth did with himself when someone wasn't running the Labyrinth. She'd never asked her friends, pretty sure none of them would tell her even if they could, and if it hadn't been for Hoggle's occasional grumbling he thought she couldn't hear, she might have been convinced Jareth didn't really exist when he wasn't playing with mortal lives.

Jareth gives her a withering look, carefully setting both of their cups aside so he can lean closer to her. "Sarah. How many people do you think really want to wish away their siblings, their children? Really, with all their hearts? Yes, it is far higher a number than you might wish to think, but it is also far smaller than might keep someone like me occupied for even half his time. Even when I stretch it out, giving you a whole day, or three--"

"Wait, you've given some people three _days_? And they haven't won?"

The corner of Jareth's mouth twitches. "You didn't need a day. You didn't even need half of one, if you recall."

"That's not the point! That's not--" the last word freezes on the tip of her tongue, but they both know what she was going to say, and Sarah can't help ducking her head and laughing.

"Right. Fairy tales aren't fair."

Jareth just nods. "And this would be at least part of why you bested me. You, unlike many, have been capable of learning your lessons. Most of them, anyway."

Sarah wants to ask what he means by that last part, but she's actually more interested in something that's been bugging her since the bookshop. "But what about--" she waves vaguely at him. "You don't dress like this when you're back in the Goblin City, do you?"

Jareth gives her a look like she just asked if he would like to take a stroll past the Bog of Eternal Stench. "No, I don't. But I've learned that what I take as casualwear comes off very differently in your world, and I don't actually want to draw attention unless I need to."

Sarah finds herself leaning closer without thought, resting her chin on her hands to listen to him; it's not only the fact that he's a distraction, like all stories had been when she first met him. She realizes she actually wants to know what he is, when he isn't trying to intimidate or enchant someone into surrender.

"So, you dress like...a rock star, all the time?" she can feel herself warming a little as she says it; she knows, now, what Jareth had been trying to use to appeal to her girlish fantasies. To his credit, Jareth doesn't laugh. He just leans back, arms crossed over his chest and gaze to the ceiling, like he's thinking.

"I have a mask for every one of you. They're very similar, on the surface. You all have some basic things in common, including what you expect of me. But some do throw in  a few more...." Jareth draws his gaze back to hers, and something about the way he smiles has the taste of sour peaches flooding Sarah's mouth.

"--interesting details, when they think of a Goblin King."

Sarah feels her throat tighten, but she doesn't think coffee would help the situation. She coughs, using it as an excuse to grab a napkin and give herself a few seconds to get her thoughts back together.

"So," she says, after several moments where Jareth just watches her, chin propped on the back of his hand and looking far too much like the proverbial smug cat with his cup of cream. "Is this what you're really like?"

"When I want to be."

"You can't _not_ speak in riddles, can you?"

"You've read more fairytales than nearly anyone else who's challenged the Labyrinth; you tell me."

Sarah just stares at him over her cup, keeping their gazes locked until Jareth finally rolls his eyes with a small huff.

"Not very often, no. If I'm honest, your particular ideas for my costume do run much closer to my own tastes than others'. The tights were a bit much, though."

Sarah feels her face warm at the wicked glint in his eyes at that, and she suddenly becomes absorbed in the swirls in the tabletop. Jareth takes pity on her, letting the smug grin fall as he takes up his cup.

"You're hardly the first one who thought they wanted me to be in love with them. There have even been a few men with that particular fantasy." He frowns, although if it's due to whatever memory those words have brought to mind or the fact his cup is empty, Sarah can't be sure. "I think they might be some of the few I've felt truly sorry for. They generally don't mean to be rid of their children, just whatever arrangement they were in to get them."

 _That_ takes Sarah aback; she never thought that he might feel anything but amusement or annoyance at the expense of those who tried to find the center of the Labyrinth. Before she can pick further at that particular thread, though, Jareth shoves his cup away and focuses his full attention back on her.

"You never did answer my first question. Are you really that upset over this--" Jareth waves a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Clayton?"

" _Cameron,"_ Sarah says, and although she tries to sound annoyed it comes out more as amusement. "And no. I'm not. Not over him, anyway. I'm just...I thought I didn't have to pretend with him. I guess I thought that was part of the point when I beat you, that I didn't have to pretend just to get through the day anymore."

Jareth's expression shifts into something Sarah can't understand right away, not until he speaks and his voice is the softest she's ever heard it, the most _earnest,_ and she realizes it's because she never expected to get true sympathy from the man who had poured so much time and energy into quite literally turning her world upside down for a laugh.

Not for a laugh, she corrects herself. He did that because she had thought that was what villains did, and thought he had to be a villain, like she'd once believed that fairies were supposed to be nice.

"None of us are ever done pretending, Sarah. Some of us are just lucky enough to find places where we can, occasionally, enjoy doing it."

"So you enjoy it, then? Being the Goblin King? You told me it was exhausting."

"No, I said I was _exhausted._ And that was because I have rarely had to put in a proper appearance half as often as I did for you. Most of you I can--manipulate from a distance. And I do enjoy that. Watching you, figuring you out. Finding the tricks that will drive you on, what traps you'll fall into if I put the right breadcrumbs in your path. It's fascinating to see the way time and place and circumstance divides you while making you very similar at heart."

"You like analyzing people."

"Well, if you're insistent on taking all the poetry out of it, yes. And you might too, if goblins were all you had for conversation the vast majority of the time."

Sarah can't keep from snickering, in spite of herself. "Is that why you wanted me to stay? So you would have someone to talk to?"

"I don't know about you," Jareth says, suddenly standing. "But I have gone _far_ too many years without tasting cheesecake. Would you like some, or should I just eat yours so the other slice won't go to waste?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, but feels herself smiling to broadly her face almost hurts, as she stands to follow him to the pastry case.

 

*******

 

After what feels like only minutes of talking about nothing and everything--her telling him about what it's like to _teach_ the lessons in the stories that had given the Labyrinth so much of its shape that night, him telling her in small half truths about his few other real duties besides stealing children, and so many other things Sarah couldn't possibly catalogue even if she'd been trying to put it all down instead of just enjoying the fact that Jareth seemed to be _listening to her--_ but turns out to be hours according to the clock and the darkening sky outside. Seeing that, Sarah gets up and walks to the door, shoving it open with a sigh.

"I should go. I should probably call Karen to get her reminding me how I don't put in enough effort to make guys like me or whatever over and done with."

"Or perhaps," suddenly, Jareth is holding a crystal out to her, but this time it doesn't look like a trap and Sarah can't quite explain why. "You could delay it just a bit longer."

Sarah shakes her head at him, almost smiling. "I can't come with you. You know that."

"And why not?" Jareth asks, tipping his head in a way Sarah could only describe as owl-like.

"I have responsibilities--"

"That doesn't mean you can't come with me. It simply means you cannot stay. Nor would I have asked you to. I think, given enough time, you could convince me to walk into the Bog of Eternal Stench of my own volition."

Sarah laughs then; a loud, snorting thing, and Jareth's smile becomes much wider. "Is _that_ why you didn't ask me to marry you like the Goblin King did in the book? Because you were worried I'd ruin your wardrobe?"

She had forgotten that little detail for a long time, she realizes--she had been so caught up in getting Toby back in that moment that she had all but forgotten the very beginning of the story that must have made the costume Jareth wore for her that night. While she had eventually taken many of the stuffed animals who looked like her friends out of storage, she had never actually picked up that little red book again. But she remembers that, now--the Goblin King's offer to take the girl as his queen in exchange for her stepbrother, promising her a whole kingdom that would love and fear her if she'd only take his hand and give him her own heart and fear in return.

"There was also the not-insignificant matter of your being a child at the time," Jareth says, and while his voice is rather nonchalant Sarah thinks she sees something like disgust flicker over his features. "I might have been cruel, but even if you had asked me to be that particular kind of monster I would have found some way around it."

Sarah blinks at him, and for an instant she feels like she's back in that shimmering ballroom, a girl playing dress up both longing and fearing to enter the world of grown women, itching for a man's embrace only to feel like she's suffocating the moment she finds it.

She still feels like that a lot of the time, if she's honest.

She licks her lips, swallowing twice before she trusts herself to speak. "So what are you offering me now, then? Now that there's no child to take or give back, and I'm a grown woman knowing what she's getting into?"

"A place to take off your mask, or at least wear one that fits you better." He rolls the crystal over the backs of his fingers, from one hand to the other, but Sarah thinks it is more out of habit than any attempt at enchanting her. "It might not be yours, but you more than any other human I've faced has earned the right to at least have loan of a part of my kingdom from time to time."

"And I don't have to give you anything?"

"Well, I wouldn't be adverse to sharing your company if you're already in the neighborhood, so to speak." And while he tries to sound bored, Sarah knows he's not trying that hard and is really just struggling not to sound too eager at the prospect.

Which is why, in a movement she's not sure even the girl who had jumped off the edge of an impossible staircase would have dared, she darts out a hand to snatch the crystal ball from Jareth's palm, giving him a smug grin of her own as she holds it delicately on the tips of her fingers.

(She's fairly sure he let her do it, but that's hardly the point.)

"So what do I do, then? Do I have to say the right words?" The last few syllables come out singsong, and she bounces a bit on her toes to him, surprising herself when she giggles at his put-upon sigh.

"No. Simply--look into it when you wish to leave this world behind, like when you want to call on Hogwash, and...you'll be in your kingdom. I won't say I'll be waiting, but I will know you're there, and if you desire my company, just--wish for it. Unless I'm actually stealing a child, you won't be interrupting anything important."

"And if you _are_?" Sarah says pointedly. Jareth tries his best to stare her down, but gives up almost before he's started, shoulders sagging but a laugh still lurking in his voice.

"I know far better than to say you can't interfere, so could we just cross that particular bridge when we hopefully never come to it?"

Sarah chews her lip for a moment, then nods, holding out her free hand. "Deal."

Jareth's hand hovers above hers, before turning it so they are palm-to-palm, fingertips just touching, and he lowers his head. Even if she knows what he's intending to do, Sarah still feels her breath freeze in her throat when he just barely touches his lips to her knuckles, and her heart stutters in a rhythm she doesn't know when he meets her gaze.

"I'd best leave you to your unpleasant conversations, then." And before she can even think of an intelligible word let alone a proper response, he releases her hand and a cream-colored owl is taking flight over her head.

Sarah stares at her hands--the one holding cool crystal, and the one trembling from the loss of Jareth's surprisingly warm breath--for a long moment more, not even thinking let alone caring what any stranger passing by might think. Then, grinning, she raises the crystal up and stares into for a long moment before she closes her eyes, conjuring up memories of moss-covered walls and glittering forests. She wonders, as she descends a hill that at least appears to be the same one she had stood on the first time she'd seen the labyrinth's expanse sprawled in front of her, if Jareth plays chess. Or possibly Scrabble.

  


**Author's Note:**

> The title, and much of the initial inspiration for this story, came from this story about an autistic boy's meeting David Bowie during a special screening of Labyrinth http://lifeonmagrs.blogspot.com/2017/10/fancy-believing-in-goblin-king-my.html


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